Getting married in Egypt, Part 2

The next step in the marriage process here, involved us going to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs to get the notarized Affidavit certified. What that exactly means, I have no idea, but it's necessary nonetheless.

Early Saturday morning, we went to the office in Mohandisin to work on Part 2 of getting married in Egypt. The office was churning out certifications, and although there were 30 people of ahead of us when we arrived, we only stayed for all of 15 minutes. We gave the government worker our treasured Affidavit, and without even reviewing it, he stamped it, we paid 11 LE, and done. Totally anti-climatic.

So in preparation for Step #3, which is the actual marriage part at the Ministry of Justice, we got copies of our IDs and my resident visa made to head over to the government doctor for the dreaded medical exam. When I first read the words government doctor and medical exam, all I could think was, OMG, I don't want to get hepatitis! Government hospitals aren't necessarily the cleanest places, and I kept imagining all sorts of crazy scenarios of being given a blood test with a pre-used needle, cleaned with a cotton swab soaked in rubbing alcohol. I was freaking out. When we walked into the Family Medicine center, my heart was racing so fast, you could see it in my neck. Run by women, my fiance wouldn't even be able to talk his way out of us getting an exam.

So we had to suck it up and deal with whatever was to come. We waited for about 10 minutes until we were asked to pay 86 LE, and gave them all the copies of our IDs and photos. The admin filled out a few forms for us that we had to sign and finger print. First time I ever had to finger print a document! I made the mistake of nervously asking what we would actually have to do as part of the exam, but my fiancé elbowed me to keep quiet, because apparently paying for the paperwork was the extent of it. Then I realized, why on earth would they go further than necessary and actually examine us, when they could just take some money and fill out a piece of paper instead? Duh, TIE. And thank God! Because it spared me of having to deal with any refusals of a blood test!

The admin then handed the paperwork to whom I assume is the head doctor of that facility, and she sat us in an office where she asked us a bunch of questions about each of our medical histories. She was very sweet, and the whole process took no more than 10 minutes. She told us about how she lived in Canada, and was happy that we would be getting out of Egypt during these crazy times. When all was said and done, she gave us each a certificate with our photo stapled to it, and congratulated us on our way. 25 minutes in and out. Part 2 took 1/6 the amount of time that we spent at the US Embassy in Part 1!!

Next and last step, the Ministry of Justice. I have one week left as a bachelorette!

Getting married in Egypt, Part 1

My fiancé and I are planning our February wedding here in Cairo. It's been a bit challenging because it's completely normal to start planning a wedding just a few months before the big day. In New York, the average is about one year in advance that people book their venues and start their planning, but here, no one seems to have any such urgency. This makes it really difficult to give my friends and family abroad as much notice as possible,to plan their trips. When we first tried to plan, we had 8 months to go, and hotels and venues weren't ready to start booking that far ahead. We were actually turned away from the Mena House for that reason!

Side note: Mena House has a whole list of issues, beginning with the fact that as of January 2013, they have no longer been under Oberoi management, and there has been a serious lapse in the quality of service there. The worst management decision being made, is the plan to turn the outdoor garden/lake area into a food court. The only hotel in the world with a view of the ancient pyramids via a beautiful garden, is replacing its major alluring feature (and the only reason I wanted to have a wedding there), with a food court!! So from January 2014 on, no one can have an outdoor wedding, cocktail hour, reception, etc. there. So stupid! Their reason for doing this is to attract tourism. But in a country where tourism is currently dead, there is zero point in doing this! At least cater to the clientele you do have, local weddings, and grab that massive business potential. Idiots!!! Once I saw a glimpse of the inept service, I crossed them off our list.

In the end, we chose a better venue, which is a gorgeous villa right on the Nile River. Once we visited this villa, we knew it would be the place. We stood by the river, arm in arm, overlooking the property, planning and imagining our entire wedding there. Luckily, that is how most of the planning is going for us. We both have similar taste, we want to have a non-traditional, atypical, non-Egyptian type wedding, and we pretty much know exactly what we want. My fiancé is so involved and excited to help with the planning, and I couldn't imagine doing this without him, especially since I don't have my mother here to help. (What bride ever wants to plan a wedding without her mom??) I am no bridezilla by any means, and I've never put any importance on having a wedding-- ever, I actually think they are silly and suchhhh a waste of money, so I've had a very easy-going attitude about it all. This is only made easier by having such a great partner to plan with!

Anyway, the really exciting part is that we have just recently begun the process of getting married legally here in Egypt. Like for reals, married. On paper. Le-gal. Since we are planning to go back to New York, (let's face it, I'm a New Yorker and I just have to go back!), it's imperative that we start working on that notorious visa and all the associated paperwork.

If I were an Egyptian citizen, getting married would be as simple as having a religious ceremony, which would also include a contract and all legal documents to certify our marriage. But since I am a foreigner, getting married in Egypt is a three step process that involves a lot of paper, a lot of photos, a lot of stamps, and a lot of patience.

Step #1 had us at the American Embassy. We were so lucky that the Embassy was open on the day of our appointment. I had made it 2 weeks in advance, and it seems that lately, the Embassy closes every other day, when clashes erupt. It was abnormally crowded that morning because many appointments had to get rescheduled for that day. After waiting an hour, we were given the Affidavit and another form to fill out in both English and Arabic. The Affidavit is what we'd take to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and the Ministry of Justice. We were instructed to write carefully, and if we'd made any mistakes, to come back for a new form to fill out. Apparently the Egyptian government does not authenticate any document with mistakes on it. We made mistakes. And then I yelled at my fiancé for using purple pen, because-- who signs in purple pen? We filled out the form twice, then gave it back to the "teller" behind the counter at the Embassy. Paid the $50 fee, and sat there waiting another hour to have the Affidavit notarized by the Consul.

He was so friendly and happy for us, that it was the first time the process felt exciting. We all signed, happily thanked everyone, and head out. Halfway out the door, I noticed that one of the "tellers" spelt my name wrong. The name that is written clearly in my passport, which they used to fill out their portion of the Affidavit. AHHH! We had to go, get another form, return it to the "teller," wait for them to fill it out, and then face the Consul again. Another hour later, my patience running thin, we were called. I reviewed everything, pulled out my favorite pen to sign, and halfway through my signature, my pen.runs.dry. Dead. Won't sign my signature. Everyone, including the Consul and his assistant gasped. I couldn't believe that with all the stresses and the wait, yet another thing could go wrong! So I jokingly had to say, "Well maybe this is a sign that we just shouldn't go through with this! It isn't mean to be!" I went over the signature ever so slowly with another pen, to complete it. Relieved, we all cheered, and the two of us left with the treasured document.

Next up, step #2.

Cairo's Curfew

This is real. The city has a curfew.

7pm.

In a city where the average person doesn't leave the house until 6pm, you can imagine how paralyzing a 7pm curfew can be.

Since the fatal attacks and exchanges began last week, this curfew was issued, and I, along with the rest of the country, had to adjust my routine based on the limited time I now have to get things done. Work was generous enough to let us out an hour early now, and I hope you can sense the sarcasm in this bit. Because getting out at 4pm and getting home around 5pm, just about the time that all stores and shops close because their employees need to get home before curfew too, is useless. Especially when your biggest client is in Qatar, and you don't want to give the illusion that the news headlines may actually affect business. We stay until 5 most days to make our deadlines just to give the rich Qataris the illusion that Egypt is fine. Don't worry, we are not going to have any delays in designing your multi million dollar mansion. We understand how vital it is to your wellbeing.

So everyday is a bust. I haven't been the gym in nearly 2 weeks, I barely have time to run errands, and I don't have my (one) luxury of calling the supermarket or restaurants for delivery at night, because guess what, they're closed. I have used up every grocery that was either canned or frozen. I can't even spend time with my fiancé, because he is also working, and then needs to make a 2 hour traffic-ridden journey home before curfew. Then add to all of this, the fact that I don't have internet or TV in my apartment. I am going out of my mind. I watched every movie ever downloaded onto my hard drive. I am too bored to even find something creative to do.

I just turned 30 years old and I couldn't wait for my birthday. I couldn't wait to be 30. But my birthday and pretty much every day since have been a huge let down. Is this what it feels like to be 30?

The last time I had a curfew, I was a teenager.

I am 30 years old and I am not allowed out after dark.

A year has passed...

It has been one year and 3 days since I arrived in Cairo.